


Her hands on my skin

by Jaffre



Category: Gunpoint (Video Game)
Genre: Asphyxiation, Beating, Blood, Breathplay, Other, Scratching, Smut, mentioned past abuse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-16
Updated: 2015-01-16
Packaged: 2018-03-07 19:37:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 870
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3180662
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jaffre/pseuds/Jaffre
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"I loved belonging to her. I loved her body against my body. I loved her hands on my skin. Oh! how much I loved her hands."</p>
            </blockquote>





	Her hands on my skin

**Author's Note:**

  * A translation of [Ses mains sur ma peau](https://archiveofourown.org/works/3180392) by [Jaffre](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jaffre/pseuds/Jaffre). 



> Translation of my own fic, and as usual, a big thanks to TunefulCandour for proofreading this!  
> Contains trans Conway and demigirl Hightower.

She had hands with long bony fingers, each of her joints pressing onto my skin when she touched me. Her caresses were awkward, sometimes too insistent, not knowing how to handle me with care, leaving red marks behind her. Her nails were also a surprising length, thin thunderbolts in my back as a testimony of their passage, the soft pain awakening my senses. I could feel her breath on the back of my neck, a hot breath, while she clung to me as if it was her last moments.

I always felt a slight apprehension when she embraced me. I knew that if she wanted to, she would break me in half. In her hands, I was but a fragile being, a small creature that she could remodel to her desires, and that since the very first day. Our first times. Our violent, confused first times, where she would make me suffer for her own pleasure.

Even though she always seemed to worry about my well being, I was lucky enough for her to grow fond of me. Now, she would listen to me, take care of my own pleasure, respect my limitations, and lose herself in me more easily. I also knew that if I wanted to, I could stop everything. At any moment, if I asked her to, she would leave me alone. She could disappear from my life.

I didn't want it. I had given myself to her entirely.

I loved belonging to her. I loved her body against my body. I loved her hands on my skin. Oh! how much I loved her hands — although the very first time, her gloved fists were raining on my face. Her fists covering me in bruises — the skin around her knuckles scratched off by the blows she inflicted. Hands used to violence, a mirror of the life she lived. With time, I learned to know them, these hands. I learned to love them.

One of her thumbs positioned on my throat — my breath grew erratic. With each new press, it intensified, and soon found myself breathless. She brought the rest of her fingers around my neck. Her other hand ran across my thigh, her nails digging into my flesh. Thin trails of blood. A hip thrust. I clung to her nape with all my might. Her hand pressed firmly on my throat, pushing me backwards. She lifted my leg, and leaned on me, squishing her tiny breasts on my chest. Desperately, I tried to catch her mouth but only swallowed her hot breath. Her lips were so close, yet, unreachable. A strangled rale escaped my throat as her grip tightened around my neck. Ecstatic, I let myself be rocked by the motion of her hips, thrusting herself deeper into me.

The tip of her teeth gently nibbled on my bottom lip. Softly, my tongue made its way into her mouth, and I obtained the kiss long awaited. The lack of air started to make my head dizzy. My vision darkened. I closed my eyes, losing myself in her arms, in the contact of her skin against mine, in the sweet taste of her lips... I gasped for air when she let go of my throat, lost in an ocean of breath — hers, mine. Her hands skimmed over my face, reassuring me with caresses. From my cheeks, they glided quickly along my neck, to my shoulders, then slipped under both of us, lingering on my chest, and carried along my hips, to stop on my buttocks, that she grabbed with both hands. Still disorientated, I felt the rhythm getting faster, thrumming back-and-forth inside of me without giving me the time to catch my breath. She straightened up to better penetrate me, her body slipping out of my reach. I was losing my mind — I was but a shaking, panting shapeless mess. Losing control of my body — shaken by spasms — her nails in my flesh multiplied the pleasure of the act. Febrile, muffled cries escaped me as she led both of us to ecstasy.

She collapsed on top of me, her head resting by my side. Cheek to cheek, I listened to her rushed breathing taking a more peaceful pace — as she might be doing for me. In the dampness of our interwined bodies, her hands ran through my hair, tangling thin strands around her fingers, and covering my face in tiny pecks.

A few moments later, I found myself lulled by the soft hum of her voice as she wiped away the exhaustion of my body. Fingertips retraced the marks she left, tokens of our passion. I gave her a wet kiss. She chuckled and rubbed her nose against mine, then left another kiss on my forehead. I leaned in to rub my nose on one of her nipples, making her laugh again. She buried her face in my hair, stroking my cheeks absentmindedly.

With one hand, she grabbed the towel within her reach, and wrapped me into it. I closed my eyes, comfortable in her arms, in the soothing warmth of her body. I could feel her carrying me back to bed as I was dozing off, my dreams already filling up with the familiar shape of her hands.


End file.
